Sigh
by JustAnotherNumber
Summary: Soul Evans already has some things already going on, like a secret identity and old wounds that won't seem to heal - ever. When he meets Maka Albarn for (seemingly) the first time, some questions pop up that only Maka seems to have the answers to, and so he jumps head-first into something that he really shouldn't. [Don't be fooled, AU but also not.]
1. Sigh

So, lately there's been this big hype going around the school about this DJ guy who goes by the name of Sigh. He's like, the new Johnny Depp or something. The girls are already getting it in their mind that he's the high school jock for some reason; probably because they want him to be. It would crush their little cheerleader hearts if they found out that I know firsthand Sigh is just a normal person that no one likes or notices or has a crush on.

As for me, I'm the guy with his hands in his pockets and a slouched back on his way to every class. I'm the guy no one notices or thinks about. I don't talk out in class or raise my hand. The teachers used to call on me even though I didn't know the answers, and then they also seemed to forget I existed. I'm the kid always sleeping at the desk because he's dead tired. Like pretty much every guy at the school, I'm up all night watching gory horror movies or drooling over some chick in a bikini. Well, thirty percent of the time. The other seventy percent is spent on my computer, letting out what I'd been thinking up the time of school I'd actually been awake. And lately I'd been on the computer one hundred percent of the time—I'd found this song that's just been dying to be remixed.

Okay, confession time—as some of you might have guessed, me and Sigh… we're the same person. The guy no one likes and the person falling asleep at the desk are the same person. I have no idea how anyone found out I went to this school, but it leaked out somehow and suddenly it was this big thing, even though no one had admitted to liking that kind of music (dubstep, techno, electronic) before. Kind of spat on it, actually. I was already pretty famous on this site where you download remixed songs for free that ordinary people make, but I never put on a profile pic or added a description or anything, really. And it beats me why anyone my age would like dubstep instead of making fun of it like everyone had before now.

I sat down on a wooden chair at the far end of the public library, behind bookshelves and next to the wall. No one ever came back here, and I would know from experience. I also work on the mixes at home, but the internet here is so much faster and, as much as I hate admit it, I actually like the library. Not to check out books—God, I may be a loner but I'm not a nerd—but I like the vibe for some reason, and how I don't have to worry that someone will bother me. But it's mostly the wifi.

The volume was blasting, but since I had high quality headphones, another person could only here some hums come out at the loud parts.

The vocals in the remix are faster than the real song, but not so that you would notice unless you'd already heard the song. It opened up with some notes sounding like an electric keyboard hitting a single note over and over, then other keys hitting a few notes higher up the scale. Then the vocals come in with no background other than the keyboard. The part I was really proud of was when the beat kicked in, a deep _whomping_ sound that sounded like a mixture of the bass drum and the snare.

I smiled to myself, satisfied at finishing the song. I was pretty proud of myself. I put the newest song up on the website, earlier than usual. I saw something out of the corner of my eye unnervingly close and jumped, instinctively closing the tab for the website. The plug for my headphones came out, and my laptop let my new song out into the surrounding area a lot louder than was necessary at a library. Unfortunately, it was in the middle and at the chorus, so it was the loudest part. I hit the mute button so my speakers couldn't blow out before finally turning towards the figure that had been way too close for comfort.

It was a girl in a red, plaid mini-skirt, a vest, a coat that was unbuttoned and went down to her ankles, boots with a steel crossing design on it, green eyes, white gloves, and pigtails. To be honest, she was a little child-like in how undeveloped she was. At least she was skinny, and I guess some guys would think the child-thing was cute. I guess her eyes were pretty cool. They were like, an emerald green. They looked clear too, like the light got captured and then bounced around in them. I didn't really take in her appearance until later since I was kind of focusing on how she'd sneaked up on me and gotten way up in in my personal space.

My eyebrow twitched. "What the hell!"

"Well excuse me." She sounded annoyed. "I tried to talk to you, but you're music was too loud."

"So you decided to get your face all up in mine?!" That's just uncool. And then she made me look uncool by jumping like five inches into the air! Better to not be seen at all than look uncool, which was what I'd been doing for a while now. Thinking about it, I hadn't talked to anyone for like, three weeks. Not even teachers. I have no idea how my voice wasn't cracking horribly.

"Sorry," she said, looking shy all of a sudden. "The song just seemed familiar somehow." She paused. "Where did you find it?"

"It's by Sigh," I said, looking at her a little strangely. She didn't seem like the type to recognize his music when she heard it.

Wait, I mean _my_ music. I can't believe I'm actually starting to see him as a different person.

"Oh, him," she said in disgust. "What he needs is an encyclopedia to the head." Um, okay.

"Then how did you recognize the song?"

"What? Oh, my friend showed it to me yesterday. She's obsessed with him."

Lie. I just put it up like, ten seconds ago. But I didn't say anything, since I was already tired of talking. How can you get tired of talking? Instead of thinking about how cool people should have some form of a social life and be used to talking for longer than a few seconds, I watched her give me a little two-fingered solute and walk away with a thick book in one of her hands.

Huh.


	2. Backstory

I decided that going to bed early that night was probably essential to my health. For nights in a row I wouldn't feel tired in the least at four in the morning and then the next night I'll be falling asleep where I'm stand at eight p.m. That night was a night of the latter.

The next morning I actually woke up when my alarm clock went off, which was a step up for me. It's supposed to go off at seven, but then I wake up at eight thirty... right when school should be starting.

I felt really rested, and actually a little good. My mood only got better when I saw all the comments on my new song. I'd posted at 6:58, so I guess it wasn't that surprising that I'd gotten so many comments in one day. Usually I post them in the middle of the night. The first person to comment was some girl named "bloodRED_pigtails". Pigtails, huh? I looked at the time the comment was posted—three minutes after seven. Would that be enough time for the girl yesterday to get to a computer? I mean, she was in a library—

Wait, where is this coming from? Maybe that girl just recognized the style or something.

You know what, why should I care? Sigh doesn't exist, so he doesn't have to worry about what people think of him, or who those people are.

I'm doing it again. Sigh and I are the same. Sigh is just to keep the haters from hating directly. People would probably drop the idea of dubstep if they found out it was me, but not before throwing it at a cement wall. I wish they would just find out they'll never be good enough instead of constantly wasting energy trying to impress others. I have.

I'll save you a sob story and just skip to the part where I got to school on time and had breakfast, both a first in a while. To be honest I'm not really sure why I go to school. When I sit down and think about it, it's because I want to be able to think of myself as independent. So far I haven't done a very good job, relying of the money my parents give me for my apartment. I've barley even poked at the thought of getting a job, but I guessed I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't find one soon. I though breifly about working at a fast food place, but they only accept people with their high school degree, so that was out of the question. I guessed I should probably check, anyways. Since when was I in the loop? In elementary school they didn't have one, and after that I stopped trying to talk to other people, since the topic was always on my brother.

Let's not go there.

Okay. Back to something much less interesting that everyone my age dreaded—high school. And don't even get me started about how much people hate actually _being_ there. Thinking about it is enough.

Unsurprisingly, I found that even if I _did _go to the first class of the day, it's boring and without purpose. I guess even getting a good night's sleep for once had its cons. Well, now I knew.

I never ate lunch, because 1) I hate school lunches, and 2) I'm never hungry. I just pig out on the couch at home and I'm fine. Probably not the best eating habit, but at least I ate breakfast that day.

So, all I really do during lunch is wander around the campus, which is surprisingly big. The ceiling's really high and there's always these extra credit assignments being posted on this bulletin that people take all the time. I'd heard some are really hard, not that I would know from first-hand experience. This one kid, Kid, and his two sisters always do the hardest ones. I'll never understand why his sisters hang out around him, since he's always running around either yelling at someone for being unsymmetrical or banging his fist on the ground because of his hair. But I've also heard they're not actually related. Not in the loop, remember?

"Soul Eater Evans?" I froze at the use of my full name, and then turned around on my heels. No one ever used my full name, as if they couldn't believe I was related to the people it implied. It was that one weird teacher, the one teaching science for smart people or something. The screw on his head had always made me twitch, and I wasn't sure whether he knew that just because he's a science teacher doesn't mean he has to wear a lab coat all the time. And I could never see his eyes, as if the light was always glinting off of his glasses perfectly.

"Yeah?"

"I need to talk to you. Follow me."

I had no idea where that was, so I didn't know how long I'd be walking for. It was right around the corner, and then I remembered this is the hallway where all the honor roll students go. Before we walked in, I could hear a loud, obnoxious voice say something and a quiet, calming voice cut in every once in a while. We opened the door to an old, unused classroom with some vines growing through the cracks in the windows in the middle of their conversation.

"—worth a big star like me, not some stupid make-up work for a guy like…" he searched for a word and saw me, then zeroed in and pointed at me yelling, "him!"

Oh, it was _that_ guy. Black Star's annoying voice practically carried around the whole school because he was so loud. He and that girl were always together except for the times when he was up on the roof yelling at people to clap for him. One time he got too close to the edge of something and the tip broke off. Then Kid started freaking out about how it wasn't symmetrical anymore. Black Star said (well, yelled) that wimps like him could never beat the "almighty Black Star". It ended with Black Star twitching on the ground in a pile of smoke. I'm not kidding; I think there were explosions at one point.

"Please excuse him. He doesn't mean it, he's just upset." Really? The girl was apologizing for him? That's so uncool.

"Are you his girlfriend or something?" She started blushing and saying that no, she wasn't. I wondered more than before why she hung around with him to begin with.

"Settle down. Let's get to what I brought you in here for. Tsubaki, can you please step outside for a moment?" The girl who I now knew as Tsubaki smiled warmly at him, bowed slightly, and stepped out. I took a seat at one of the front desks next to Black Star who had his arms crossed and was pouting, staring out the window. I sunk back into the seat like I always did.

"Alright, let's get started. I know that both of you are having trouble with your grades, and I've suggested something to bring up both of your averages to the school board."

"I already do extra credit!"

"You try, Black Star, but you've never actually succeeded at any of them. You might be able to if you would only pick an easy one."

"No way am I letting Kid do better than me!"

"Moving on," he continued, ignoring Black Star who was obviously not happy. "I'm Professor Stein, all-subjects teacher for gifted students. What I recommended was that, since you can't pick up your grades this late in the school year, you can join my class. If you survive, you graduate."

I didn't even know what my grades were, but if they were as bad as the guy over to my left then I knew it was probably a stroke of luck for me. Just to clarify what I had to do, I asked, "So, we need a C or above?"

"Oh, no, you quite literally need to survive. My tasks can be rather difficult for the average person." I swear I saw his glasses glint a little more than usual when he said that. I guess in this case it bites to be average. It seemed a little strange that the school board would agree to something like that, though. I reasoned that if they accepted it, then it must not have been _that_ dangerous.

Black Star guffawed next to me. "This won't be a problem for the great Black Star! I _will_ conquer the gods one day, as I'm sure you already know!"

"Black Star, please get off the top of your desk." When I looked, he was standing on the desk doing some weird pose and I could almost hear the sparkles. My hand flew to my mouth and I turned away as I tried to cover up my laugh. _Is this guy for real?_ I thought.

"Hey, what are you looking at? Bask in my glory while you can, peasant! You're lucky to breathe the same air as me!" Then I heard this maniac, loud laugh.

Unfortunately, I realized that yes, he was for real.

I heard Professor Stein sigh and call for Tsubaki. She rushed in apologizing and then tried to get Black Star to calm down, but she was drowned out by his ranting until she finally gave up and listened with me to Professor Stein.

"Tsubaki, can you just tell him that he needs to be in room seven hundred tomorrow morning? He's giving me a headache," Professor Stein explained, rubbing his temples. I couldn't blame him—one of the muscles in my forehead was starting to twitch at that point. _I'll really have to be in the same class as Black Star? _I thought. _He makes surviving Professor Stein's class seem to have more cons by the second._

Tsubaki nodded with a grim expression this time and then dragged Black Star out by the ear. His shouts of "ow" could be heard for a while after I walked outside without a goodbye to or from Professor Stein as he leaned forward in his chair he was sitting on backwards and turned the screw in his head, apparently lost in thought.

I figured I'd go home. I was going to try to be more independent or whatever, but it doesn't really matter whether I stay or not after what Professor Stein said, right? I'm sure it won't exactly give the teachers a heart attack to see that I'm absent.

On my way home I was thinking about how Professor Stein's class was an all-subject thing. It sounded like elementary school to have to stay in one boring classroom all day. I also heard that since it's only one class there are a bunch of kids in one room. I wonder how big the room will be, if I'm even right. I heard yelling, which wasn't really abnormal in the city, but this didn't sound like the usual calls of some group of teenage boys playing penis.

"Then why did you cheat on her, huh?! If you love her so much to go around constantly telling me about it!"

"But it's true! Papa loved you and your mama so much! I still do! Come back! Maka!" A girl in a coat came around the corner but was stopped when the man I'm assuming was talking to her grabbed her arm before she roughly pulled hers away.

"I hate you! I'm absolutely disgusted by you! I will never so forgive you, so stop apologizing!" By this point I'd stopped in my tracks.

The girl turned around from the stunned man and started walking stiffly and quickly in my direction, her head down and using her sleeve to wipe her nose. When she noticed me, via my feet, she finally looked up and I recognized her by her emerald eyes. They used to be clear and bright, but now they looked ready to shatter with none of the confidence that they had before. She blushed, looked down, and kept walking, but I grabbed her arm when she was walking by and didn't fight when she shook it off.

"What was that about?" I asked, walking next to her.

"Why do you care?" You could tell from the way she talked that she was on the verge of sobbing. I answered truthfully.

"I don't know." She started walking faster, but so did I.

"Listen, if you think you're going to get a good gossip story out of this, think again. Everyone has a backstory, and some aren't picture perfect." Her voice seemed steadier now.

"I can't argue with that." Especially being me and all. "Does someone at least know?"

"No. You're the first to get this far. Congratulations."

"You should at least talk to someone."

"Who, you? You're some stranger I pissed off at the library. And how would you know, anyways?" I thought for a second; that's a good question. How _would_ I know? What made me think to say that of all things? It's not exactly like I'm reaching out to people at the moment.

"I guess I don't," I finally said. She didn't say anything else, but she glanced up at me and then back down like she was confused about something. When we were back at the school she stuck her hand out at me.

"I'm Maka Albarn." I hesitantly took her hand.

"Soul Eater." Her face screwed up in confusion.

"'Eater'?" She echoed.

I don't know what possessed me to say this, but I guess I was thinking that she wouldn't care. I took my hand back and put it in my pocket to match the other one. "Giving out my last name would mean giving out my backstory." After all, she was the one who said that not all of them are picture perfect.

She looked like she wasn't expecting that. Since she obviously wasn't going to be any use with her mouth opening and closing like that, I turned around and started heading towards the class I was supposed to be in. I figured I shouldn't say things like that to people I just met.

* * *

**So. It's only been eight months.**

**Yeah, I'm a bitch. I kept telling myself, "Rachel, you're going to go home and write more MSWM or Megan and the Burnouts," and it never happened. I had writers block for the longest time, and before that, I'd ****_never_**** had writers block. I would be able to sit down and write for hours for three years and then silence. Woops, my bottomless well has run out of water. Whatever shall we do.**

**I figured it was just cruel and irrational to keep telling myself I was going to do it, so for now, my two other stories are discontinued. In all honesty, I screwed up Megan and the Burnouts. Badly. Maybe one day I'll rewrite it, and one day I'll continue MSWM. But today is not that day. For now, this is my solution.**

**Okay. I'm going to type this, right now, to hold myself to this.**

**I've dragged this out as long as possible, and that in itself bitch. At this point, I shouldn't have followers from the other stories, because I'm a dick and this is what happens to dicks. I haven't touched in the longest time, and I have no idea where all the stories I followed are at this point. Something is wrong with my account, because I haven't even gotten emails for new chapters for idk, what feels like a year but I know isn't that long. **

**What I'm getting at is that me doing this is something I should take responsibility for. I am going to update at least once every two weeks (I'm saying this because I know once every week is just I can't). Since I already have the next part typed up, expect it Saturday. Carry on with your life.**


	3. Headaches

I made myself go to sleep that night at eleven because Professor Stein scared me a little and I didn't know what to expect when I walked into room 700. I pushed open the door and was immediately bombarded by sounds.

"Get back here! Listen to your God!"

"Hold still, Liz!"

"My eyebrows are perfectly fine, thank you very much!"

"Black Star, do you _want_ a skull fracture?"

"Get back here, you damn bird!"

"What are you talking about? They're not symmetrical, so of course they're not perfect!"

"Ow! You pulled out half my eyebrow!"

"NOW IT'S UNSYMMETRICAL!"

"I can't believe I got you in my class, you idiot!"

"Ha! I got it!"

"I CAN DO MY OWN DAMN EYEBROWS!"

"Black Star, I'm going to Maka Chop you back to kindergarten!"

"Well, they were unsymmetrical to begin with, so obviously not!"

"Which, unsurprisingly, _shouldn't be that hard_!"

"Ow, it bit my finger!"

"Says the one who _RIPPED OUT HALF OF MY EYEBROW_!"

"_EVERYBODY STOP_!"

The room froze at the aggressive voice that came from one of Kid's sisters, the younger one… I don't know, Heidi, something like that. The one with short hair. Her voice actually scared me a little, and everyone else in the room seemed to know she meant business.

Kidd, Liz, and Liz's sister were all together in the seats. Liz and Kidd were fighting over a pair of tweezers, with Liz currently winning. Tsubaki was cringing at the sight before her, her mouth opening and closing with her eyes on Black Star like she wanted to say something to him. Black Star was wrestling with a pink bird, maybe three feet high, with thin legs and a round body. Maka was poised to strike with a book aiming at the back side of Black Star's oblivious head. Finally, the girl with the short hair was standing on one of the seats higher in elevation of Kidd and Liz, her hands clenched into trembling fists at her sides and a serious, angry look on her childish face.

"SOMEONE STOLE MY GIRRAFFE!"

Everything was back into play mode, same as before, except that Tsubaki was rushing over to help Heidi or whoever. I was still in the doorway, the door open a few inches thanks to my frozen hand, when Black Star ran by me with the bird, practically choking it to death. There was the sound of rustling pages and then something hit my forehead, making my head snap back and then forward again. My hand reached for my forehead, forgetting the door.

And then I made the fascinating discovery that books can give people a headache in more ways than one.

"Take that, you bird!"

"They're not even your tweezers!"

"Yay! My giraffe!"

Something warm and sticky sneaked onto my fingertips, and I took my hand down to find some blood. The smell of iron filled my nose and time slowed for a fraction of a second as I swayed slightly.

"Oh, _he's _here." Suddenly Maka, Black Star, and Tsubaki were standing around me—must've been longer than a fraction of a second. With that said, Black Star marched away.

"I'm surprised he's still standing."

"I was more focused on aiming, so I didn't throw as hard."

"Are you okay?" My eyebrow twitched as I wondered if Tsubaki was constantly worrying about other people for a moment, especially since I don't even know her. The moment disappeared quickly.

"I should be the one asking that," Maka argued a little angrily, though added nothing to it. I took a second to get my bearings before saying anything.

"You've got one damn good throwing arm," I growled, scowling at my bloodied fingertips. My headache was acting as if to turn to a migraine.

"Yes, I'd say she's rather proud of it," Tsubaki agreed warmly.

"So, are you in this class now?"

"Yeah." I resisted the urge to tack "unfortunately" onto the end. I must've imagined it, but Maka seemed to perk up and sag down at the same time when I answered her question.

"Why?" Maka asked bluntly, then added, "Are you failing?" after a moment of hesitation.

"I have no idea what my grades are, but if they're close to this idiot,"—I jammed my thumb in said idiot's general direction—"then this is probably a streak of luck."

Maka said "I can agree with that" at the same time Tsubaki said "I suppose so. Tsubaki looked over at Black Star for a moment, who was currently arguing animatedly with Kidd about something, then turned back, looking depressed. I looked at her strangely. If she's not his girlfriend, then what is she?

"So, uh, is this the whole class?" I wasn't one for conversation at the moment, but I had nothing else to say and Maka looked like she was expecting me to say something.

"Not usually. The class fled when the bird escaped because they didn't want to be here when Professor Stein got back. I wanted to leave, but…"

"You were very responsible to stay, Maka." I never knew someone like Tsubaki even existed.

"Yeah, I guess so," Maka pouted halfheartedly, obviously a little flattered.

"Huh? I thought Tsubaki had to force her to stay," an innocent voice sounded from across the room. Maka blushed and looked at the ground. I shifted my eyes from Maka's blushing face to the seats behind Maka and Tsubaki. Black Star and Kid looked like they were about to start fighting any moment.

"Why do you care if I have a star on one shoulder?! _Seriously_, what kind of guy _cares _about that sort of thing?!"

"How can you say something like that? It could not be more important!"

"Oh, so if I did this"—Black Star picked up the (quite impressive) giraffe what's-her-face was working on and added a pink eyelash to one side—"the world would implode?" Black Star ignored the "hey!" from Patti and looked intently at Kidd, a muscle clearly visible and popping out on his forehead.

Kidd just stood there for a while looking at the ground with his bangs blocking his eyes. He was shaking a little.

Then, all of a sudden, he snatched it out of Black Star's hands and screamed, "_Disgusting_!" Then he kicked it so hard it went through the ceiling. Now his attention was focused on Black Star. "I don't want to look at you for another second!" he spat.

Before he could say anything else, the door behind me that I was leaning on started to open. I caught myself before it was too late, but whoever this person was liked to open doors fast.

"Maka!" I got out of the way so that the pink-haired kid could see her. "Stein is coming!" The kid's eyes searched the room and rested on the cage and she relaxed for a moment, and then tensed up again. I looked to see that she was looking at the feathers thrown across the room. She opened her mouth again looking at Maka, but then closed it when she saw me and latched onto Maka's arm. Maka wasn't ruffled in the least, so I assumed this was a normal thing for her.

"Alright, Crona, you sit down. I've gotta help Black Star shove the bird back in the cage."

Maka and Crona walked away, and I was left with Tsubaki. "She seems jumpy," I noted.

"She is," Tsubaki smiled. Tsubaki was talking to me, but she was walking to the seats in a hurried pace, so I had no choice but to walk just as fast.

"Good job, by the way."

"On what?"

"Crona's gender. I certainly didn't guess that easily, although Crona sure has gotten more feminine ever since she became friends with Maka."

"Really? How close?"

Tsubaki thought for a second. "Well, at first Crona was scared of her, and then Medusa wouldn't let Crona be free, but then Maka killed her, so it worked out in the end."

What.

She acted like she hadn't said anything weird and I just shrugged it off, sitting down. I hoped no one would freak out that I'd stolen their spot or something.

All of the students that hadn't been there before then bolted into the room in a totally desperate and uncool way. A couple people fell flat on their faces in the hurry. There was this one guy with a single hair on the top of his head that people just stepped on when he fell. For the others everyone at least walked around them. I couldn't help but smirk at how ridiculous that guy looked.

A giggle below me caught my attention. As I looked at the row below Maka's hair settled on her shoulders like she'd turned away quickly. I frowned. Had she been looking at me? Her neck was turning a little red, like a sunburn light enough that it's barely noticeable. However, being the one that saw it change color, I noticed.

Suddenly the whole room froze. They all looked like they were listening to something. Straining my ears that I constantly played music too loud into, at first I didn't hear what the anxiety-written faces told me that they did. The remaining students ran to their seats. I got a dirty look from some girl with light blue hair, who sat three seats away from me, and assumed that I'd taken her seat. I didn't really care.

The atmosphere was tense. The two seats on either side of me were empty, and the one to the left of Black Star, who was sitting next to Tsubaki. Finally, I heard a rushing, squeaking noise that continued to crescendo. Then, out of nowhere, Stein burst through the door on his chair, the wheels catching on the prop so that he flew backwards. For me it seemed a bit embarrassing, but he just picked up the chair, brushed off his lab coat, and sat back down on it. Twisting the screw in his head, he mumbled something undistinguishable, even in the dead-silent classroom. I caught a glimpse of Black Star, who looked interested. I decided to accept that this class is just full of weirdoes. I mean, sure, it's Friday, but this isn't normal.

I was disappointed when I found out that this class was going to be just as boring as the others when he started writing on the board. Before I knew it, my head was resting on my arm acting as a pillow for the hard desk. At one point I dozed off, and then woke up to Stein staring at me. For a moment I thought he was going to chew me out, but then he turned back to the board and put the chalk down.

"Soul. Get down here."

Crap.

Everyone whispered as I made my way down the steps. Even if I wasn't happy about it, I wasn't embarrassed. I'd been through this process more than a few times before.

"Black Star."

"What do you want, old man?"

He ignored Black Star's comment. "Face Soul, please."

Black Star walked up, his hands in his pockets like mine, except I looked tired and he looked intimidating.

"Fight."

I stood there staring at Stein, expecting him to say something else. When he offered no answers, I turned my attention back to Black Star and narrowly avoided a punch to the face.

* * *

**Oh, snap.**

**I realized the last chapter had no humor. I swear, this is not romance/drama.**

**You should review now.**

**Also, I think I'll be able to post every week for a while. **


	4. Sorry

_Damn. It's happening._ I used to be able to control it so much more, but I hadn't been in a situation where it reacted for a while, so my resistance was low. Before I realized it, I'd broken out into a wide grin that no doubt showed off my sharp teeth, as my crimson eyes, probably with some popped blood vessels, widened.

I started walking forward, my hand in my pockets, easily avoiding every one of his attacks with a new speed and without the fear of anything that might happen to my body. Black Star was getting impatient, losing his edge. Finally, when he gave a sloppy punch, I shot by him, giving him a final smirk, and kicked him in the back before he could guard.

Black Star fell forward, but started picking himself up immediately, angrily using his fist to wipe the blood from his mouth. So, he'd coughed up blood, had I hit him that hard?

My grin only got wider.

"If you think that's all it takes to beat me, you're dead wrong!" He was trying to be intimidating, but in the state I was in, intimidation didn't really work.

He started throwing punches again, but he wasn't thinking, and his punches were even easier to avoid than before. Even though he punches were become rasher and more powerful, he didn't seem to be losing energy, but gaining it.

Unfortunately, the punches were even more predictable than I'd originally thought they would continue to be. Left, right, left, right, left, right. He speeds up, but it doesn't make a difference, since I can probably go faster than he ever can. "Come on, can you try a bit harder? This is becoming boring."

His eyes flashed dangerously at my request. "If it's so easy, why don't you just end it?" My eyes glinted, and my mouth formed a wide smile. _Might be fun,_ I considered.

"You're not going to shoot by me this time!"

"No need."

"Use your hands! Don't underestimate me!"

_Not_ _fun, _the little voice chorused."All that does is guarantee that I'll win."

"Yeah? Try me!"

_This is becoming boring again. _With that thought, and the grin falling from my face, it was already over for him.

I shot forward, taking him by surprise. Slipping my right hand out of my pocket at the last second, I slammed my fist up into his chin and sent him flying backwards.

As Black Star picked himself up, I realized what I'd just done in front of a class of students. I think the last time I'd given in to the dangerous melody I was all alone, just lying in bed, shortly after my parents had expressed their disapproval in me. I'd started laughing like a madman, and I couldn't stop for what had seemed like hours. I'd lost consciousness at one point, and then woken to find myself poising a knife at the center of my chest. At the very least, I'm glad that the madness hadn't gotten to such drastic degrees, and the fight had ended quickly.

I wondered why it had backed off so quickly. Was there something in the room that was some sort of anti-madness, for some reason?

Since I couldn't face the audience, I turned to Stein, who hadn't said anything yet. He just stared at me, turning his screw. It started to get awkward when he sat down and looked at his book on the desk.

"Alright, class. Who wants to clarify line sixty-one on page one hundred and twenty?"

My eyebrow twitched. Really? That's all he had to say?

"You!" I turned to find a finger close to my face. "I won't accept that you beat me! I demand a rematch!"

Nope. I still didn't like things up in my face. "Drop it, will you? I'm not doing some stupid rematch. I've got better things to do." I started walking away.

"Oh, yeah?" God, his voice was really loud. "Like what?"

I decided not to answer. I didn't want to have an argument in front of the class; I felt like I'd gotten enough attention already.

Tsubaki, somehow, got Black Star to shut up as I walked back to my seat. When I walked by Maka's row, the scarping of her chair and the shuffling of her things alerted me that she was following me, but I didn't question it. When she sat by me, however, I voiced my suspicion.

"What are you doing?"

She didn't meet my forceful gaze. "You don't have a textbook, right?" I looked down at her hands as she flipped through the book to page one-hundred-whatever. I didn't want to pay attention, but I knew I'd feel guilty if I didn't follow along after she does something like this.

"Soul?" I looked up at Stein, who had called out.

"Yeah?"

"What do you think it means?"

Well, I figured that I should probably read it first. My eyebrow involuntarily crinkled as I tried to make sense of it all. So, this girl destroyed the stars, and then hung up a black paper moon. Then, she talks about how that if the person is lost, she's right there. Then something about looking up, and she'll be shining. I crinkled my brow. _What the hell?_

I felt like I was stretching it, but I answered what I thought it was, anyways, because the professor was staring at me, waiting for me to say something about it.

"It means that… she'll always be there for him, even if he doesn't know." Close enough.

"Basically. It also infers that she'll do anything for him when it says 'only for you that I destroyed the stars'. You're partially wrong though, when it says 'if you really put your faith in me' and 'if you raise your voice and call for me'; he has to reach out for her, or she can't do anything. So she'll only be there for her if he lets her, even if she's persistent at first."

I wished the old man would stop confusing me.

I gave up trying to figure out what he was saying and just sat there, staring at the words on the page as Stein talked about them. I figured being called on twice was enough and that I didn't have to worry about him doing it again.

* * *

God, the day seems so long when you actually stay the whole time. How many hours? Six? Eight? I didn't really care, and I hated math, so it worked out perfectly.

I sighed as I watched the other students collect their things and leave. Today had been so goddamn freaking long, and even with all that time sitting at a desk and doing nothing, I hadn't been able to think up another song. I'd posted the last one two days ago, but I'm almost always conjuring up something, even if the composition itself was something original that I wouldn't post online in the first place.

Maka seemed to be taking forever to gather up her crap. I wasn't stupid; I knew she was waiting for me to get up and leave with her. Wanting to avoid anything awkward, I suppressed a sigh as I rose from my seat.

Today had been a complete waste of time.

Suddenly, everything was in her bags, and she was jogging to catch up with me. I cast a questioning glance in her direction that she didn't catch, since she was self-consciously pecking at her hair. Honestly, why do girls do that, and Maka of all people? No offense to her pigtails, but she gives the impression that she doesn't care too much about what other people think of her.

"So," she finally started. "What do you think about the class?"

"Pointless," I answered bluntly. "Although I've never seen the point of school, I've also never had to get up and fight another student." I glanced over at Maka, a pout on her face and her gaze on the ground. I didn't know why, but I suddenly felt like I had to distance myself from her, like letting her know too much about me would cause catastrophe. "And everyone in there is a freak. I wish I hadn't come."

The last part was a lie. Although the entire thing _was_ stupid, I didn't necessarily regret coming. With that realization, I knew _exactly _why I needed to distance myself from Maka Albarn.

I looked over to the emerald-eyed girl, and my resolved crumbled. Instead of disappointed, she looked… sad. Her irises seemed to be shivering, and in the corners of her eyes were undeveloped tears.

Is it my fault that she's like this? Why did she respond so much to me pushing her away? I didn't even think she would notice… but, does any of that matter?

Because, I just made her _cry_. And somehow, it seemed like I'd defied the ultimate rule.

I didn't even realize what I was doing as I put my hand on her head and harshly ruffled her hair. She shrunk back from my rough hand and swiftly recovered. A blush on her face, she looked agitated, and a surprised.

With a sweep of her expression, I was satisfied.

I grabbed for one of her pigtails and tugged on it. She let out a noise of protest, but I ignored her.

I started walking away. "Later, twerp."

I evaluated myself as I rounded a corner. It's sort of sad that that's as good as my apologies will ever get.

_But, still, _I thought, smirking to myself. The image of her blushing cheeks and sparkling eyes filled my mind, and I was certain. _I think I did a pretty good job of perking her up._

* * *

**So what do you think.**

**This was originally shorter, and also combined with the last chapter, but then I realized that I did a shit job with the "ending" of the last one and redid it. Also, I was too lazy to post any earlier than this. **

**I'm so glad that my whole writing block is finally over with. During school, when my history teacher was ranting about some shit, I pulled out a piece of paper and planned out three more chapters. I need to do that more often, because after that, I knew exactly what I was going to write, with enough room to improvise.**

**BTW, the next chapter is going to be a filler, even though that's basically what the last one was. Whatever.**

**It's always nice hearing that you guys like the story with your reviews, and I don't want to sound rude, but... help me out. I need some legit feedback. I don't know if I'm pushing the story in the right direction or if I've been doing a good job of it so far. I mean, I won't completely change the story just because one person says something else would be better, but opinions would be appreciated.**

**Also, I would like some recommendations for fillers. Of course, I'll use them as a chance for Maka and Soul to grow closer, so if you want a certain situation, it's always the right time to speak up.**


	5. Illtuned Melody

I let my head slam onto my cluttered desk, my keyboard breaking the fall. Agitated beeps emitted from my computer continuously, as if the computer was screaming at me to stop being an idiot.

A vein in my forehead began to throb. This goddamn block in my thinking just wasn't going anywhere!

I didn't understand why this was happening. Music was my passion, even before my passion for music in general was narrowed down to my passion for dubstep. Even now, I knew that, to a certain degree, I still loved classical music. My time of composing pieces on the piano was over, though. I started walking to the kitchen, my intention being to make a sandwich.

Could I even consider the music I'd made classical? Even though I understood what I'd made, I couldn't compare it to any other type of music. Dark, twisted, strange. Like a mashing of keys, but with a melody. Hands flying over the keyboard, surroundings disappearing, mind slipping away, darkness closing in, fingers dancing, heels tapping, hips swinging off-beat—

I came back to Earth as I dropped a ceramic plate on the ground with a crash. I cursed under my breath. Such a pain. It was my fault, though. I shouldn't be thinking about things like that while carrying breakables.

I knelt down and carefully picked up the pieces. My face flushed as I realized how much of an idiot I am. Why was I thinking about that, after everything I'd gone through to get away from it? I didn't want to compare my music now to how it was back then. I didn't want to be compared to my brother.

I froze as I realized I'd just let my mind drift to the taboo subject.

"_Damn it_!" I hissed as a piece of ceramic slipped and cuts the palm of my hand. I noticed they were shaking, and roughly dug my wrists into my eyes to erase the tears.

_This is a disgrace,_ I thought._ Just how pathetic can I get?_

A rapid round of bangs on my door snapped me out of my stupor. "Mr. Giraffe, are you there?!" When I didn't answer immediately, the banging replayed. "OPEN UP!" the figure behind the door demanded.

Pulling myself together, I got up and opened the door, a fist flying past my face as it tried to connect with a door that wasn't there. "Calm down!" I demanded.

Suddenly, the blonde girl was in my apartment, seeming to teleport from location to location, room to room. Suddenly, she zoomed out of my apartment and down the hall, yelling nonsense I couldn't understand. I looked around. Somehow, my apartment was even messier than it had been before, and the fragments of plate had been untouched.

I turned my head to look down the empty hallway again. That girl seemed like she was from my class on Friday…

"Soul!"

If I have to turn my head one more time, it's going to crick.

Maka's out of breath and sweaty. It's safe to assume she was chasing the girl from earlier. "What?"

"Did Patti come this… come this way?" she wheezes.

"Who?"

"Patti! You know… short… short, blonde hair, obsessed with giraffes, big…"

Her eyes widen and she seems to have caught her breath. One of my eyebrows raises. "Big what?"

She stands up and waves her hand, dismissing the subject with a blush covering her cheeks and creeping on to her ears. "Big feet, have you seen her?"

"Yeah, I've seen her. Ran around my apartment before sprinting off that way," I explain, gesturing to the right.

"All right," she confirmed. My eyes widened as her hand wrapped around my wrist. "Let's go."

I was about to ask why the hell I had to go when I had almost no involvement with the matter when a figure zoomed past my nose. Looking over, I saw Patti screeching to a halt and sprinting back before stopping at my door.

_…What the hell is that girl doing. _

Before I know it, Patti is zooming around my apartment all over again. I watched with a sinking stomach at the mess the girl was making (me caring about a mess in my apartment is saying something). Lamps were suddenly on the kitchen counter, plastic plates were on the couch, coffee tables had been flipped, the couch was in the window. I didn't even notice Tsubaki running up being me until she was screaming next to my ear.

"_Patti!_" she yelled, making me jump. "_I found Mister Giraffe!_"

Looking peculiarly like a dog, she froze where she was on all fours and stared at Tsubaki like she couldn't understand a word that had just come out of her mouth, and then noticed the abused, yellow/brown doll-thing in Tsubaki's hand.

I was no longer surprised at how fast she was and how much of a mess Patti made in the short trip from where my couch used to be to the door.

Twirling around on one of her feet, the abused animal was abused further by her surprisingly strong grip.

"Mr. Giraffe," she squealed. "I swear, it's like you're trying to run away!" Patti bubbled. The giraffe seemed to be crying.

At this point, I was just waiting for everyone to leave when Black Star burst through a wall. When everyone started letting themselves in, I wasn't surprised. I would just ignore them, but that would mean cleaning everything up by myself.

The entire group was arguing about something, Maka seeming to argue with two people at once while Kid adjusted Maka's pigtails. I ignored that I hadn't seen him get here.

"Oi!" I finally yelled, getting everyone's attention but Black Star, who seemed to be ranting with one foot elevated onto a sideways chair. The corner of my lip and one of my eyebrows were twitching. "You guys need to help clean up this mess."

"Kay~!"

"I'm really sorry!"

"I'll make it perfectly symmetrical!"

"Do you have a mirror somewhere?"

"Sorry for dragging you in to this…"

"Gods don't clean!"

I ignored all of them and waved the hanging dust from the wall Black Star had blasted through out of my face. I hoped that wouldn't turn into a pain.

Making a beeline through the dissipating crowd straight to my equipment, I start picking up all the wires that were pulled out and praying that everything still worked. Not that many wires had been blasted out, and one of the computers had fallen onto the keyboard, but was luckily unharmed. I didn't let out a breath until every wire was placed back and my computer and headphones worked successfully.

I was really upset that my headphones had gotten scratched, though, and a corner of my laptop. What had I done to deserve this? I guess it would've been a miracle if nothing had been scratched, though. I also guess it's a miracle none of my equipment was flipped across the room like the couch. The little of the song I'd made disappeared, but it was horrible when it had existed as well.

I spun around on the chair I'd brought back to the computer and looked at the room before me. Tsubaki and Maka were tediously picking up broken glass, Liz was filing her nails on the couch Patti was carrying, and Black Star was exercising in the corner.

How had a boring day turned into such a pain?

I decided that I didn't want to, so I spun back around and slipped on my headphones. Maybe I could work on a project I'd dropped a while ago. Looking back, I was reminded that I'd never actually finished the remix for Raise Your Weapon. I remember thinking about how good of an idea it was when I thought about remixing it. It could be molded into anything I'd wanted, even when I wasn't as advanced, and could do that with anything I'd wanted. It had a certain style to it that made everything just a little twisted, and it was in my mind that I would make it even darker than before.

I'd failed miserably. I hadn't known what I'd been doing, so I guessed that was reasonable. I was going to further work on it, but soon realized that this song was too bad to fix. Going to file and opening a new platform, I started off with a swell as the opening and jumped right in with the sub-bass.

What about everyone else? I turned around, and they still had a lot of cleaning up to do. Someone had apparently gotten Black Star to help, but he had a pout on his face and was moving abnormally slowly. Once again, I turned back to my computer.

Three, four, five patterns were made. Seven, eight. The song was replayed over and over again, and parts were piled on until it gave off the image I'd wanted, then it was improved continually, then I was half done.

I leaned back in my chair with my hands behind my head and thought about how I could pull this off. The lyrics aren't the most important part in my mixes, but they can be a delicate thing, especially if I'm trying to make it twisted and cruel like I am now. I want to give off the feeling that she's in pain when it comes up, and I want it to be used scarcely, but repeatedly.

The lyrics are placed and chopped and moved and chopped and deleted and repeated and the process goes over and over again until she's screaming into the microphone and calling out for help. The entire song gives the sensation of falling, giving in, remembering, forgetting, floating, caring, fading. It sounds strange, but… I really like it. It feels like it describes me.

I press play and close my eyes. Good, the intro isn't too long. The main pattern is good, too, but the drop needs a little more…

What does it need? I open up a new sheet and scroll down my options. Fruitydance, rave scythe, basskick. My hand stops at illtuned-piano.

For some reason, it seems perfect.

The piano in the background, especially "illtuned", just succeeds in making it sound more unusual than before. It seemed to be balancing on a fine line between amateur and professional, but at the same time, it sounded perfect.

Hmm. How long did that take? Three hours? That was pretty fast. At least I got over my block.

Even so, I guessed I'd have to make another song soon. I realized that the song was too personal to post online. For a second I thought that was part of the reason I'd made an anonymous account, but then realized that it didn't matter. This was something I wouldn't be able to stand other people hearing and rating on their own, personal scale. Maybe I was afraid of rejection, or of people knowing too much about me. I was never really sure.

I finally took off the headphones and looked around.

"Few! That was a lot of work!"

"Kid, you've been working on that poster for eight minutes."

"I refuse to clean up after peasants!"

"I can't believe you don't have a single broom."

"Black Star, Maka and I just fixed that!"

"Done! It's perfectly symmetrical!"

I sighed, painfully. _I am surrounded by idiots._

Patti, of course, was the first one to plop down on the couch, right next to her sister. "Break time!" Everyone, of course, took this as a cue to sit down on and in front of my couch that's only supposed to seat two people, but apparently had the capacity for four. Black Star, finally seeming to have realized that my apartment wasn't a gym, unceremoniously slammed into the couch, a bag of my junk food having materialized in his hand.

Patti and Black Star took up all the room, and knocked everyone else off as Kid calmly sat at the foot of the couch with his legs tucked underneath him, surfing the channels as Liz tried to recover from her recent fall.

It took me a moment to notice Maka wasn't there and another to notice her walking towards me. My eyes flew up to her face in question, and watched her walk the few feet over to where I was. "What have you been working on this whole time?" she asked.

I shrug. "It doesn't matter."

She pouts. "Don't say that," she says after a few seconds of uncertainty. "I want to know!"

"Calm down. It's just a song, geez."

I turn around rather rudely and save the song, exiting it before turning back. "So, is there anything else you want?"

"Well, I was…" She proceeded talking while completely avoiding all eye-contact, finding the doors and walls and corners and everything she'd become all-too familiar with extremely interesting all of a sudden. She looked like she wanted to stop, but was too bashful. "I wanted to listen to the song."

My eyebrows crinkled and I rubbed my chin as I pretended to think about it. "Hmm…" I met eye contact with her to make it as clear as possible before continuing. "No."

"Come on," she whined. "Whenever you would write music, I would always be the one person you showed it to!"

I stopped pretending to pay attention and actually paid attention. "What are you talking about?"

She didn't seem to hear me. "I know how much you pour in to your music, and how protective you are of it, but you would at least show _me_, your _partner_, of all people!" And she just kept going. She really should have stopped. "You knew I wouldn't make fun of you, or dislike any of your music, or think of it as anything but yours!

"You knew I would never compare you to your brother!"

And then I saw red.

"You don't know shit," I spat at her. "I met you all, when? Yesterday? You shouldn't even know my last name, and you're going around spouting about things you don't know a thing about. Why the hell are you all even here?" I asked, sending a glare at everyone else, who seemed to be having a jolly good time enjoying the show while a commercial for skin cream sounded in the background.

As I turned my attention back to Maka, along with red vision, it became tunnel. "You sure have a way of persuasion, poking your nose in every hole you see. Get the hell out of my apartment."

Maka, pale and stunned, began to slowly walk out of the apartment while everyone else looked at each other, as if wondering what exactly to do. Since the message and the glares I was sending them apparently weren't clear enough, I hissed at them that when I said "get out" I meant "all of you". And eventually they all shuffled out of my apartment and left me to myself and a show about the odd symmetry the Egyptians seemed to use in everything.

Suddenly, my block was back, and a migraine along with it. Pinching the bridge of my nose with my thumb and index finger, I wondered what the fuck had just happened.

* * *

**Have no doubt, Soul will not regret snapping at Maka. Making her upset, maybe, but she went somewhere even she knew she shouldn't. This was Maka's fault. Sorz if you wanted a cute apology scene, not gonna happen.**

**...This is a filler, you guys. I swear.**

**And OMG, Soul is having flashbacks. Whatever do they mean? *gasp***

**Just... pay attention to the flashbacks. They play a pretty big part in, you know, the core of the plot. No biggy.**

**So, how do you think I'm advancing the story? I think I'm pacing it rather well, honestly. I forget exactly what's going to happen in the next chapter, but it'll be on Monday, and it won't be filler, so shit will go down the entire time instead of shoved in at the end. Oh yeah, did that feel rushed, the whole argument thing? You should tell me. It just didn't feel rushed typing it, so as someone who's only read it, you should tell me if it was rushed. In a review. Please.**

**I've wondered, does the word "fuck" only make a fanfic mature-rating if you use it in a more "mature" way? I hope so. I'd rather not get the story kicked off.**

**So it's eight minutes to midnight, and I'm still typing up the bold ending, so it'll probably be past midnight when this is up, but I'm still technically posting it before midnight. So I win.**

**Review what you think, please. I'm serious, I need to know to get better. PLEASE.**


	6. Don't Remember

**It's Sunday. **

**I'm supposed to update on Saturday.**

**Fuck.**

* * *

Piercing screams, pained yells, flashes of light and dark, ambient noise, twisted faces, overwhelming fear, loud disagreement, awful realizations, countless choices, lost opportunities, pointless sacrifice, red tears, horrible suspense, grotesque forms, terrible regret, searing pain, black blood.

Panting and sweating and clutching a hand to my searing chest, I woke up, finding it extremely hard to breathe. The muffled sunlight being blocked by the drawn curtains helped the terror swell back down. Gingerly, I sit up, placing one foot and then another on the carpeted floor next to my bed. Taking my shaking hands from my heart to my hair, I clutch it and pull in an attempt to pull me back to reality.

I want to move on from that horrible experience. I'm hardly stopping myself from thinking about it. I kept getting these flashes, before stopping myself from remembering just in time.

_Get up,_ I ordered myself._ Do something._

Unfortunately for me, I was rather experienced when it came to these things. Granted, this was the first one that had happened in almost a month while I was sleeping. The ones in the day time are never as bad. Like on Saturday, two days ago. Yeah, I guess that could be counted as one. These random flashes of things I didn't want to see.

I couldn't help looking into the full-length mirror as I passed it. I took in the scar running from my shoulder to my hip. Where did I get that scar again? I run some of my fingers over it, taking in the roughness it had compared to the rest of my skin and the uncomfortable prickles that followed after my hand.

"Oh yeah," I mumbled out loud. "The car accident."

Because of that car accident, I couldn't remember. And because of this scar, I was constantly tortured by a reminder.

I'm not really Soul Evans. My own parents let me know. I'm the new one, the fake one, the impostor. These eyes weren't mine, which captured people's attention. These teeth weren't mine, which scared people away. This hair wasn't mine, which stuck up in impossible ways.

I could tell, from the moment I woke back up, that I wasn't wanted. At least, not this version of me. People were crying, people I couldn't remember, who asked if I remembered them. People made inside jokes that I didn't understand, and references that made no sense. I'd forgotten everything, and in the process, I'd lost my identity.

I was taken where I was told was my home, fed by who I was told was my parents. I tried, I really did, but I didn't know them, and they didn't know me, and I sat in my room on my computer every day. They wanted me so badly to turn back into their son, their brother, the Soul Evans they knew. Something was always missing, there was always a distance, and I was always wishing the gap would fill. Once, I even attempted to play the piano.

It was at this time that Wes decided to tell me how he really felt. Calmly talking about how I wouldn't be able to redeem myself, he said it was best if I left. You can guess how I reacted to that.

Suddenly, I was on my knees. A searing pain ran along my scar, and I cried out, although I didn't hear it. "_Damn it_," I spit before pulling myself up. "I'm such a fucking idiot." I clearly recalled doing everything to _avoid _thinking about that.

I looked over at the clock on my screensaver. School was going to start in a little over twenty minutes. Attending school that day seemed like a horrible form of torture, but by somehow convincing myself that it would serve as a distraction, I dragged myself over to the shower.

My pants barely hanging on to my waist, I roughly push my towel into my hair as I attempt at getting out the last pesky signs of moisture. At least now I didn't smell like I'd just slept in my own sweat.

A mysterious figure with horrible timing gave a knock on the door. With the thought of who might be behind the door, I was tempted to pretend it had never happened. As if reading my thoughts, the urgent pounding repeated itself.

Quickly fastening my belt, I tossed aside the towel and opened the door. I found myself unsurprised that Maka was the one standing in the hallway.

Her cheeks lit up when she saw me, and I was reminded that I didn't have a shirt on. Turning around to rummage for one, I talked to her over my shoulder, leaving the door open. "Just because you know where I live doesn't mean you can come over whenever."

Picking up the first shirt I found conveniently hanging out on the couch, I began walking back, turning it from inside-out to right-side-out. "I know," she replied, looking anywhere but me. "But I felt bad about yesterday."

I stopped what I was doing and turned my attention to Maka's face, trying to find clues. Was she being serious?

"Listen," she started, her cheeks flushing further. "I'm sorry that I said things that"—she turned completely around—"don't concern me." Something suddenly seemed off. "I don't… don't know you that well, so I shouldn't get involved in these things." With a start I realized she was shaking, and didn't know what to do.

"Sorry," Maka apologized, a waver in her voice. "I'll leave now."

Abandoning the shirt, I grabbed her wrist as she reached for the door knob and turned her back around. She tried to cover up her eyes with her hair, but I could still see the tears running down her face.

"Why are you crying?" I asked, genuinely concerned, although I tried not to show it more than necessary. When she didn't answer, I hesitated, my hand reaching out, wondering if this was okay. Deciding I probably wouldn't regret it, my hand cupping her cheek and forcing her to look up at me.

Suddenly, I was flashed back to Friday, when I'd last saw Maka cry, and was filled with the same remorse. Without knowing it, I forgot to filter what I was feeling, and the look on my face would've surprised her, if she hadn't been avoiding my gaze.

Surprising me, Maka placed her right hand directly over my heart, on my scar, before running her hand along it like I'd done earlier. I didn't understand why, but I knew enough not to stop her.

"Maka, what…?" Unsure of how to finish the question, I didn't.

All I could do was watch. Watch as her gloved fingers went up and down my scar, briefly wondering why it wasn't triggering anything. Watch as her eyes filled with something I couldn't identify, and the tears dried, leaving stains.

Finally, I couldn't stand the suspense. I grabbed her hand and got her to look up. My eyes widened at the look on her face, tears about to brim over, nose red. "Maka…" I mumbled, not sure what else to say. I was about to ask what that look was for, before she closed the distance between us in one step.

It took a couple of moments for my mind to process what was going on, and long after Maka's coat had settled, it sunk in that Maka's arms were becoming tighter around my waist and her nose was burying further into my neck and her body was flush against mine. And then another moment to process the sniffling.

"I'm sorry," Maka said, again. "Just…" I got the silent message as her arms tightened further, almost uncomfortably. _Don't move._

In a way, I didn't like it. Bonding with people is… scary. The more attached you are, the more it hurts when the connection is ripped out or cut in half. One of the few things I carried on from my other life is that, and the problem with the Black Blood, probably. But I couldn't deny that my heart had sped up, and my fingers were itching to return the gesture. Hesitantly, one of my hands supported her lower back, and the other tangled into her ashy hair.

"I really missed you, Soul."

The words rang out clear in the quiet room. I figured now wasn't the best time to ask what she meant as I took in the distinctly familiar sent of Maka's hair.

For some reason, I felt like I knew exactly what to do. Everything that was happening was too strange for me to question what seemed trivial.

I pulled away from Maka. She watched me as I shrugged on my shirt and headed over to my desk before grabbing my headphones and iPod, which I'd already transferred my newest song over to.

The music was loud enough and the headphones were large enough the room was silent enough that I could hear the entire song. When the first drop came in, after what seemed like an unusually long time for me, I heard the illtuned-piano kick in, continuing to crescendo.

Her eyes widened. "Soul," she gasped. "This is...

"_You_."

* * *

**This chapter is 1,528 words.**

**I'm supposed to make them at least 2,000.**

**Fuck.**

**Besides that, sorry for updating late. Also, my creativeness sort of stopped around the end of the chapter, so I apologize if it's sort of complete bullshit. I was going to make this take place on Monday, but then I thought I wanted him to wake up from a night terror thing and then this just happened. I sort of think I should've made it tense between Soul and Maka, but I thought I would be horrible at making that entertaining. **

**Sighhhhh overall this was a bad chapter. I APOLOGIZE. But srsly. Sorz.**

**#sorrynotsorry**

**#noreallysorry**

**Well. See you next week. I'll try to write not horribly, and uh... school is tomorrow. So that's bitch.**

**REVIEW. And has anyone else been obsessed with Free! Iwatobi Swim Club since the moment it existed? Seriously, I thought I would stop being so obsessed with it. It's been five months. But I will not deny that RinHaru is like the bEST THING IN EXISTANCE**

**Then again, Soul Eater came out over four years ago... so...**

**Heh. I need to calm down. This ending is way too long...**

**(#youshouldstillreview)**


	7. Questions

Like I said earlier, I didn't do much. Wander around the campus, decide which bench I felt like sitting on, stare at some lockers. I didn't necessarily enjoy the silence of the empty hallways, but it was certainly refreshing compared to the bustling classroom.

I let out an exhausted sigh. The loudness of it sounded out of proportion as it swirled around the room before bouncing back off the walls and floors.

I wasn't enjoying the silence, suddenly. Nothing but slight ambient noise from far, far behind me and the sound of my shoes hitting the hard floor made it only too easy to think. And I hated thinking.

This was why I loved headphones so much. Instead of being all too aware of your surroundings, everything, background and foreground, fades away, and time passes quicker, and the sharp things become blurry. It's nice.

"Unfortunately," I grumble, "like an idiot, I dropped them." _Too bad, _I thought. _They were supposed to be so durable. I guess after getting banged around by Patti, there was only so much more they could take. _

Holding in a frustrated noise, I decided to just flop down on a bench and stare at the ceiling.

Ironically, I found myself thinking about thinking. _It's dangerous, _I thought. _It brings me to places I don't want to go; through closed doors that would better remain locked. The scary part is that you do it to yourself. And you don't even realize it until you can't climb out._

The bell rings, and from the back of my mind I send up a thanks to whatever force kept me from digging myself a hole I wouldn't be able to get out of.

* * *

At the beginning of the day, I was almost surprised when Maka sat down next to me, but eventually got over it, especially after what had happened that morning. That was pretty weird, I'll admit… usually, I'm not a fan of comforting girls as they cried into my bare chest, but I had to make an exception. There's definitely something weird going on with her. She mentioned, twice now (pretty sure) something about missing me, and I think it's self-explanatory of why that confused me so thoroughly.

At the time, I found it best to just try to look past what was happening and wait for everything to work itself out, because I certainly couldn't do anything about it just yet. However… my resolve was fading. I almost seemed to have the same familiarity with Maka as she did to me, and it bothered me to no end. Her hand tracing over my scar didn't trigger anything, but walking to school that day, with her right beside me, I realized that it had. It reminded me of _something_—not just the actual contact, but the way she had looked at it, like mountains of guilt were being piled onto her shoulders.

Tapping of pencils and clicking of pens and yawning and coughing and picking at nails and folding paper and taking furious notes and snoring, the last of which coming from Black Star, spread through the room and become impossibly loud in the expansive room, making my fingers twitch for my iPod and headphones. _Which, _I reminded myself, _are fucking __broken__. _How did Professor Stein just go on writing on the board and talking with his back to the class that's making all this noise? Black Star would have been chained up in the closet at that point, if it was my choice.

I glanced up at the clock again. Two minutes left, and my liquid resolve hardened yet again—I was going to ask Maka about all this, after class. If I didn't, eventually the questions would start to eat me away.

My fist clenched. _Hold it together, _I thought. _I can do this._

Stein must've looked at the clock at the same time as me, because I glanced back down to find him placing the marker back down and turning to face the class, saying, "Don't start getting ready to leave just yet. There's something I need to say concerning all of you.

"We're going on a mission."

Everyone gasped, making me curious as to what was such a big deal. My eyebrows crinkled. Did they mean mission religious thing? No, that would surely be offensive to people… then, one of those trips where you help people who had just gone through a natural disaster? …Wait, wasn't that what you do during the religious things?

"Do to some complications, I can't give all the details right now, but it's going to last for three days, from Saturday to Monday." I almost scowled. Saturday? An unreadable smile covered his features, and of course I couldn't see his eyes past the glint on his glasses, so I wasn't getting any extra hints on what was going on.

"Soul, Black Star, talk to me after class." With that, Tsubaki did what I assumed was kick said blue-haired monkey under the table, and he woke with a start, loudly. The bell going off only proved to fluster him more, and he was seemingly having a karate match with the table.

I rolled my eyes before looking away. _What an idiot._ I smiled, though. The outrageous way he acted was comforting, almost, like I'd grown up around it.

Warily, I watched as Maka packed up her things. Now that I had to go talk to Stein, I guessed that trying to figure everything out would have to wait.

Maka looked up at me and gave me an almost reassuring smile, although I could see that she was worried about what I assumed was the "mission", since I'd heard her gasp along with the crowd. "I'll see you tomorrow, Soul."

"Yeah," I finally forced out as she was taking her first step to leave.

I looked over to Stein's desk. Tsubaki was trying to force what was going on into the groggy head of Black Star, and it didn't seem to be working well. "Tomorrow…" I said, to myself.

Swiftly standing up, I began walking down to the desk. _Or maybe, _I thought, _I could see her again today. _Almost sighing, I realized that I would have to get this over with first, though.

Stopping directly in front of Professor Stein, I tried to make it obvious that I didn't want to wait for Black Star to wake up, and for him to tell me directly, right now. Rather sure he picked up on the message, I watched as he motioned for Tsubaki to just drag Black Star over with her.

There seemed to be a repeat as it was hinted that Tsubaki would have to relay the message to Black Star when he was finished speaking, looking directly at me as he did so. "The mission I mentioned earlier, unfortunately, doesn't involve you or Black Star. You don't meet the criteria: you're both new, you both aren't as educated as the rest of the class, and you're unfamiliar with exactly how we work. But, you don't have to dedicate you're weekend to school, so think of it that way." Everything began to make more sense.

"Is that why you couldn't give out the details?" I questioned.

He smiled, almost ominously. But that's how most of his smiles added up to be. "Still observant, I see."

One of my eyebrows rose. "What do you mean?"

He ignored me, of course. "I just wish you would pay more attention during class, instead of wishing you could sneak your iPod out." I looked away, almost angrily. So, he'd known this entire time. That sort of crushed all of my dreams. Guessing it was pretty stupid to underestimate Professor Stein like that, I decided not to do it again.

Looking at the wall, a spark lit above my head as I remembered my ulterior motive to getting down there in the first place. Nodding absentmindedly to Stein as a form of "goodbye", I proceeded to walk out the door, Black Star blabbering something about fighting someone or something. Maybe the table from earlier.

Out of the room, I began jogging where I was pretty sure Maka headed after school, if my intuition was right. If the memory of the location of where I'd seen her arguing with someone was any hint, I was on the right track.

Then again, she came out to my apartment this morning. Maybe she lives past my apartment…?

Well, crap. I really wanted to go through with this today.

Instead of jogging, I find myself running through crowds of people and attracting too much attention for my standards, weaving through and bumping into other bodies in the crowd. I began to slow down, looking around for a familiar set of pigtails. Becoming worried as I neared the main entrance and exit of the school, the one I didn't usually take, I finally caught the flurry of a black coat slipping out the door that snatched my attention.

Speeding up again, finally getting out the doors, and catching sight yet again, I zeroed in on my target and ran to catch up with her.

"Maka!" I called, gaining her attention.

She turned around, surprised as she saw me quickly gaining ground before coming to a walking pace besides her. "Soul," she responded, curious. "Where's your stuff?"

My stuff? In my backpack...?

…Which I didn't have. Now the question made sense.

Shit. "I'll get that later." Pausing, I thought about how to phrase it. This was probably going to be a long conversation, with a lot of explaining (hopefully), and a lot of questions. "Maka…" I started, pausing yet again. Deciding what to say, I forced out the words of what would open up something—of which, I was suddenly scared to bring up.

"We need to talk."

Her expression told me that she was anxious of what exactly I meant by that. "About what?"

"Our… relationship." Well, that was a weird way to put it. "Something is obviously going on between us." God, I just made it worse. Could I take a moment and slap myself please.

If she picked up on the weird way I phrased it, that's not what she focused on. "What do you mean?"

At the question, I looked her dead in the eyes. I was sure she knew exactly what I meant. "That thing this morning was one example."

I got the impression that her fears were confirmed as she looked down at the ground. "Well, that's something I can't talk about yet." Whether she consciously started walking faster or not, I wasn't sure, but it annoyed me immensely.

Maybe I shouldn't have expected answers straight away. "Come on, you know that's not what I came for you to say. You can't just leave someone hanging like that."

And then she started walking faster. I rolled my eyes before walking her new speed. "Do you know how many questions I have right now? I remember you talking about things you shouldn't have known about, doing things that make no sense: 'missing me' when you barely know me, and you somehow understood my song. At least, I think you did. And, sometimes you do things that seem really… familiar."

Apparently, she needed a bit more of a push. "How do you know me? Why do you pop up everywhere? Why do you seem so familiar? Have you known about me for longer than this? What won't you tell me? Do we have some sort of connection? Why do you make the Black Room go away?"

I could've gone on, but Maka stops and turns to look at me. "Black Room?"

Really? That's what she picks up on? I almost got angry, but noticed that Maka was tearing up, yet again. "You're not the only one with questions," she said, voice unsteady. "Why can't I stop messing up? How did this all happen? What's the condition of the school? Why are we going on a mission? Why is the madness stronger than before? Am I allowed to be in contact with you? How much do you remember?"

Well, I wasn't expecting that particular outburst. By the way I saw her walking away, she was trying to get away from the conversation. I immediately grabbed one of her shoulders and forced her to face me. "Don't do this again, Maka! You always leave me with more questions!"

She refused to meet my gaze. "I'll do what I can, Soul. But right now, I'm not sure what my rights are, and I don't even know the answers to most of the questions you asked, anyways." She tried to slip away again.

I grabbed both of her shoulders this time, tighter than before. "Maka," I growled.

She still refused to meet my gaze. "I can't help you right now, Soul," she said, softly. "Please let me go."

Realizing I might have been hurting her, I hesitantly loosened the grip, and didn't chase after her again as she walked away.

As I angrily shoved past students to get back to the classroom, I continued to fume.

_Always leaving me with more questions._

* * *

**When I end a chapter, my main goal is usually to leave the readers with questions: What's going to happen? What does it mean? Will they kiss? How much more sexual tension can I take? Is it going to turn out alright? What's wrong with [blank]? Well, I practically gave you a flippin list. You're welcome.**

**Also, so many reviews are all about how everyone is confused as fuck. Perfect.**

**If you're waiting for answers, they're coming. Slowly. And I'm sorry for the lack of fluff, but the story isn't far enough in for me to recklessly indulge myself just yet. I don't think the last chapter counted as fluff... I think that counted as angst. ALSO, I HAVE THIS REALLY BAD HABIT OF ALWAYS STUFFING THE FLUFF INTO THE LAST PART OF THE CHAPTER. I NEED TO STOP DOING THAT. **

**This chapter wasn't a filler though (obviously), and I couldn't have fit it into this one even if I tried, really... I have a plan for fluff, okay. I HAVE A PLAN. [andyoushouldliketotesgivememoreideasforfluffcuzthisplanisusinganideafromsomeonebuticantgivecredsjustyetorelseyouwouldknowwhatsgonnahappenyouprobablycantreadthis] It's not going to happen in the next chapter, though... or maybe it will? Probably. Yes. Yes, it will happen in the next chapter, or maybe the next chapter will set up a situation for fluff. One of those. And since I didn't upload on time... or at all (twice) you can expect another chapter either in the middle of next week or before Saturday. Probably in the middle of next week, or Sunday, or something.**

**REVIEW. Because people were all like "wtf am i reading this makes no sense" I put in this chapter to show that I'M NOT A BAD WRITER (I DON'T THINK) AND YOU'RE ACTUALLY NOT SUPPOSED TO KNOW CRAP. REALLY TRULY IT'S NOT BECAUSE I'M BAD AT EXPLAINING THINGS, I AM TRYING TO CONFUSE YOU. So there.**

**Also... I haven't been focusing on Sigh... at all (not the story the identity). Someone help, how am I supposed to bring it back. I AM COMPLETELY CEREAL RIGHT NOW, PM ME OR SOMETHING PLEASE.**

**(God I use CAPS a lot but) My point is that you're reviews influence me. Also, I need more ideas for fluff whichimeantionedearlierbutdidntthinkyoucouldreaditso you should review the chapter AND And and give me an idea. For fluff. Because apparently I just can't think of fluffy things that don't seem to come out of completely nowhere. JUST DO IT OKAY (#capsproblem)**

**Great. I always try to get the last line to say "REVIEW." but then I went on rant mode all over again. *Sighhhhh***

**REVIEW.**


	8. Partial Amnesia

"Has it really been a week already?"

"A little more than, actually."

"Isn't that so weird, though?"

There was hesitation before the voice continued. "Yeah. But it's only a week."

"Think about it though—everyone looks forward to his music, and he literally goes to this school, yet he hasn't done anything. He knows that he's keeping everyone on edge."

"Yeah, I see what you mean. It's still only a week, though. I mean, he does upload pretty fast."

Why was I forced to listen to this ridiculously pointless conversation? _Because I still didn't have any fucking headphones._

Closing my eyes in a noiseless sigh, I debate what my next action should be: walk away and try to find another spot, or continue trying to zone the voices out. The latter seemed tempting, but I knew that I would just be wasting my time, especially since that had been exactly what I had been trying to do for the past few minutes. (Those minutes had given the feeling everyone knows that they are spending time that they will never get back, and leaves a bland taste in their mouth, as if their entire personality had just disappeared.)

With all those thoughts floating around and gradually irritating me further and further, I grunted as I sat up and began roaming the expansive campus. It was only a Monday, and yet I was running into other people. That just proved that I wasn't the only person who skipped, and it kept my ego in check.

In a moment I remembered that the only thing keeping me at school was the fact that I was actually expected to show up in the first place. Now, however, anyone who expected me to show my face around here had gone on some mission that I ended up not learning shit about in the first place. (I was still upset about that—I deserved answers, I was sure of it.)

Well… no one expects me to be here, and I came here late, and I didn't show up on Friday in the first place… so does it matter if I just go home?

_Nope_, I decided. And then I walked right out of the school, through the front gates and everything. God, what the hell is wrong with the security in this place? They go to all the trouble of making everything look really intimidating with the spikes and the skulls and then I can literally walk out the front of the school.

Should I laugh or scoff?

I thought back to what those people had been saying earlier, and my mood darkened further. Why does everyone have to get their panties hiked up because I haven't posted in a week? Seriously, making songs takes time. Most others take months to post things up there. They're probably just looking for something to complain about. Other than complain, there's hardly anything they do in the first place. Why stop now?

I shake my head to myself as I walk closer and closer to my apartment building. The person behind the marble counter glances up at me from his computer before continuing with his furious typing. Passing by white walls and couches that I'd never had the privilege to test (although they looked pretty decent) I was reminded by the quality of everything that my parents were paying for this place, not me. And even if I did march up to McDonalds and they gave me a job, how the hell would I continue to live in a place like _this _where marble makes up the majority of the place and walls broken by Black Star are instantly fixed?

As I approached my door, my feet slowed, and I began to fish around for the key. How could I be such a goddamn idiot, getting myself messed up in all of this? And why is all this shit happening with Maka in the first place?

I was wronged in _so many _ways that day I came up demanding for answers. I literally told her that she left me with more questions every time, _and then she left me with more questions_. More questions than I could _ever _ask for.

For some reason, locating my keys was becoming an issue. I didn't leave it all school, right? I'm not that much of an idiot. …right?

With a breath of relief, I felt the distinct texture of the metal of my key in my pocket before pulling it out and entering what was further proving to be the only place I could rely on for peace… and even then there was evidence against it.

Except that I didn't go into my apartment, let alone find my key in my pocket.

Because, _yes, _I had fucking left my key at school.

It all came back at once, like that horrible feeling when you realize you've forgotten your ticket and the train has already sped away from where you'd boarded onto it. And then it was a horrible feeling returning—the one where I realize that I was completely wasting every second that I wouldn't be having a problem with if I wasn't such a _goddamn idiot._

Fuming on the way back to school, I couldn't help but think that my life was overflowing with bullshit.

* * *

And I was greeted by a bombard of people complaining about how "Sigh didn't update" or "it's been almost two weeks" or "he's being a slacker". This, especially being heard from people who, if it wasn't considered cool, wouldn't give a fuck about anything having to do with the genre Sigh deals with in the first place, added such height to the pile of bullshit that there were no words to describe how far past the line everything had already passed.

Before, I was frustrated and there was tangible angst and questions that couldn't be answered, but now with the almost comical way things were going all of that was suddenly something I couldn't take seriously, as well. Honestly, how could something be so dramatic and then all of a sudden I'm all hyped up because my keys were left at a school that I would rather not attend? Fucking anticlimactic.

When was the last time I was in such a bad mood? When am I going to get over myself and stop ranting so much that I literally make me want to tell myself to shut the fuck up?

A crash and a cloud of dust came up from the side, and although others stopped to stare, I kept going, I kept pushing through the crowd of people, and I eventually got to the same bench I'd been lying on earlier before.

I almost felt satisfaction at finding my bag so easily before I shot myself down, reminding myself that it was my fault all this had happened in the first place.

Familiar yelling could be heard from behind, and I decided it best to ignore, even as the voice started to call out my name.

Eyebrow twitching, Black Star screamed into my ear, and it was impossible to ignore him.

"What the fuck do you want?!" I snapped, sending him a glare and continuing to walk. He continued to follow.

The idiot he was, a teacher pulled him aside, probably yelling about the wall he'd broken. I concluded he had a thing for breaking walls as I walked away.

Aggravated beyond belief, I knew it was too much to ask to expect Black Star to have given up that easily. I heard the approaching footsteps as I walked out the front entrance.

"Soul!" he screamed.

"_The_ _fuck_ do you _want_?" I repeated, soaked in anger and irritation. He ignored the fact.

"Where did everyone go?"

Stopping where I was, I slowly turned to just look at him in disbelief.

The fucking idiot.

Deciding the question really didn't deserve an answer, I turned around and continued to walk.

"Hey, don't just ignore me! I asked a question!"

I scoffed. "You say that like it matters."

Suddenly Black Star was in front of me, grabbing me by the collar.

"I'm ready for the rematch anytime!"

He could not have picked a worse day to be himself.

My glare was enough to make even him hesitate, and in the moment following he was on the ground clutching his unfortunate groin. I had the urge to kick him, but tried to shove it down and walk away before it resurfaced.

Needless to say, I wanted nothing more than to get home.

"Wait!" he groaned. "Seriously, just tell me! Where'd Tsubaki go?"

He got up, which was actually pretty impressive, and I decided to give up. "On a mission trip. Don't ask me about it, I wasn't told anything."

"Tsubaki didn't tell me about any of this!"

"Yes she did, you just didn't listen."

"She was acting really weird before she left," he casually noted, seemingly haven recovered. "Giving me these weird looks like she wanted to say something."

Yet again, I gave him a look out of the corner of my eye. He didn't look one emotion, but I could tell he was more observant than I gave him credit for.

I would've felt bad if I didn't say anything. "I can't tell if Maka wants to say anything or not—all I know is that she isn't going to." _I even went so far as to corner her_, I remembered, not sure how I felt about it.

"I can't help but feel like they all know something," I continued, giving a glance over to Black Star to make sure he didn't think I was getting weird on him. "Like they know more about me than I do."

"It wouldn't be that hard." He paused. "I have partial amnesia."

This surprised me. I didn't say anything, not sure exactly what to say. Surely both of us having amnesia couldn't be a coincidence after all this shit with Maka and the mission.

"I knew Tsubaki before the accident. I live with her, after all. But she's never told me any stories, never talked about how we were before, or even if we're different from how we were then. It really messes with your brain, you know?"

After a moment of thought, I sighed, and then talked. "Have you ever thought about telling her that?" Black Star turned, surprised, to find me already looking dead at him. After making sure he knew that I was serious, I turned away, again, and continued walking to my home. "You know, they're supposed to get back today. Make sure you get back before she does."

* * *

I opened the door with yet another sigh from myself. I gave the computer no more than a glance—even if I wanted to make a song, with all this shit going on, I wouldn't have the inspiration to in the first place.

Turning on the television, which I'd already dubbed a lost cause in the first place, I plunked down on the couch. The conversation with Black Star really gave me a lot to reflect on, and my eyebrows were starting to come together and the anxiety that I'd been pushing back resurface.

I needed a distraction—the television _definitely _wasn't working and I could do without another panic attack, _thank you very much_. For once I wished Black Star was there to yell in my ear and threaten to kick my ass and make me angry and _geez_, school was already over, what was the point of trying to come home in the first—

A dull sound repeated and echoed in the apartment softly, but I picked up on it nonetheless. A knock.

_Someone was knocking._

And that was the only time I was ever eager to get off the couch.

Opening the door, I was greeted by shaking fists and a messy tie and a red nose and flushed cheeks and sparkling tears overflowing from glossy eyes that didn't have the pride to hold my gaze even for half a second.

"Maka?"

* * *

**oh hi how ya been the last idk 3 weeks**

**DONT KILL ME**

**Anyways. I won't even bother making up an excuse just, SORRY. *cries* I'm sorry okay**

**In the next chapter, I'm going to try to keep the angst to a minimum. ALL FLUFF, BABY. Also, I'm going to start writing the next chapter right now. I might even be able to post it by tomorrow~! *confetti***

**What it's almost Chirstmas I'm the only one reading fanfics right now I'm so lame I won't deny it**

**Sorry for the stupid bold ending. And chapter. God why was this chapter so hard to write BECAUSE IT'S BORING i'm sorry**

**AGH please review why am I so stressed right now idk ASDGHJFDJLKJAJSDIAS**

**REVIEW.**


	9. Just a Dream

After Maka had cleaned herself up and gotten comfortable on the couch, I couldn't stop worrying. Maka had refused to tell me so much earlier; would it be the same when I asked about why she had come over to my apartment the way she did?

When she didn't say anything after a few minutes, I took the initiative. "Aren't you going to explain yourself?"

After a few moments of hesitation, her mouth opening and taking a breath like she's going to say something, and then closing, she finally decided that I deserved an answer. "I didn't want to go home," she said slowly, carefully choosing her words, "and this was the first place I thought of." Pouting, Maka looked away again. "But that sounds weird."

It really did. And although I deeply questioned that logic, I became restless and felt lighter and… I actually _liked _that she'd come to me first.

Which was so much weirder then anything I would ever say, so I did my best to ignore it.

"Why didn't you want to go home?" I asked, an image of her stomping away from some figure the second time I'd bumped into her, and the first time I'd seen her cry, coming to mind.

For a horrible second, I was sure that Maka wasn't going to answer as her expression hardened and gaze remained glued to the television, before she answered. "There were certain… '_adult_' situations," she hissed. "My horrible excuse for a father brought home another woman as my 'welcome home'."

I took in her reaction, trying to figure out what to say. Not that I didn't already know. "You can stay the night, if you want." In return, I got a horrified expression, and I scowled. "Calm down, I won't try anything." Looking away, I scoffed.

I got up, walking over to my computer. _Whatever, _I thought. _She can go back if she wants._

"It's not like you have to."

Her response was immediate. "No, I want to."

Just what was she asking for? "Then what the hell was that face?"

She mumbled something that I couldn't decipher. "What was that?" I growled.

A blush lit up the petite's cheeks and she turned away yet again. "Forget it! I was surprised, is all."

My eyebrows rose, and I turned back to the computer, starting it up. I wondered if I would ever be able to understand just what kind of thought process she had. It was unique, that was for sure.

* * *

Sometime after eight, Maka had decided that it was an open invitation to just go invade my kitchen and cook up something because why not. After complaining about how I didn't have anything, she started to make some form of garlic bread with what little I had. Therefore, she was much closer to the junk food than I was (the computer).

"Hey, can you toss me a bag of chips?"

"What kind?"

"Doesn't matter."

A moment was filled only of opening cabinets and a tampon commercial.

"Uhm… Where are they?"

I rolled my eyes before answering. "In the cabinet next to the microwave."

Another moment.

"I don't see them."

"Keep looking."

…

"I'm supposed to be looking for chips, right?"

I stood up, walking over to her. "Goddamn, woman," I mumbled under my breath.

Placing my two feet behind hers, I reached over and grabbed her hand. She jumped, apparently not having realized I was there, but I ignored it, instead guiding her hand over to _the cabinet next to the microwave_. Honestly, my directions rather straightforward.

Placing her hand on the handle, I stepped back and let go, gesturing to it when she gave me a questioning look. I watched as she opened it and took out a bag of Doritos, noticing her hand was shaking a bit more than normal when she handed it to me.

Curious, I glanced up at her face, to find her cheeks and ears red. Deciding to tease her a little more, I pinched her ear.

"Getting flustered over a bag of chips is really uncool," I noted, snatching my hand away before she could and grabbing the bag of chips.

Not wanting to get my computer messy from the crumbs, I flopped onto the couch, taking up all the space. The smell and crackles coming from behind me made me think that maybe I could sacrifice the ramen noodles I turned to so often for Maka, if she was willing to cook for me everyday.

* * *

_What the hell is she making? _I wondered. Maka had continued clattering around before eventually putting something in the oven and then leaving, sitting in the recliner I never used, her legs tucked underneath the rest of her body. How long was it going to take?

Grunting as I got up from the couch, I made my way over to the computer. At that point, I figured I could probably manage _something _for Sigh if I really tried, even if it was just an outline.

So, I rolled my grey chair under me and slipped on my headphones.

* * *

A tapping on my shoulder took my attention away from the screen, and I pulled my headphones down so that they were resting on my neck.

"What?" I asked, slightly irritated.

She took that as an invitation to put her hands on my shoulders and lean over to look at the screen. "What are you doing?" Turning her head to look at me, our faces were a little too close, so I looked at the screen instead of her.

"Making things."

"Like…" There was a pause. "Music?"

I rolled my eyes. She was making this too dramatic. "Yeah."

"Can I watch?"

My eyebrows rose. What kind of question was that?

She caught on to my unasked question. "I was just sort of curious," she said, "since you're always on your computer."

I took off the headphones and placed them on the desk before standing up, her hands slipping off of my shoulders.

"No."

Although I didn't look at her as I flipped through some channels, I could imagine her pouting. I rolled my eyes. Seriously, why is she asking things like that in the first place? Did she really expect me to just go along with it and let her do whatever?

"Why?" she asked. "I don't see the problem. I've listened to one of your songs already." When she got no reaction, she starting grabbing for things to say that would get me to agree with her. "All I would do is stare over you're shoulder."

"And bother me," I added. Maka silently fumed behind me and walked back to the kitchen.

Hey, a gory horror movie.

"The food is ready," she growled. I smirked. _I guess she's not afraid to let me know how pissed she is._

I wondered whether my food would be burnt or not (and then whether or not it was on purpose) as I walked over to the table for four that I never used. She placed some fried rice in front of me, along with a cooked version of the garlic bread from before.

"How did you get enough ingredients for this?" I asked with a full mouth. I sure don't make grocery trips for these kinds of things.

Maka didn't answer, but I didn't even notice. "That was a good meal," I noted, leaning back and patting my stomach. Once again, she didn't answer.

I suddenly realized something. "How did the mission go?" I asked, leaning forward.

Her eyes widened before looking into mine. Getting over the shock, her eyes returned to normal and her eyebrows crinkled together.

I almost said she didn't have to tell me. But that would be a lie.

Even if she claimed not to be able to say anything else, she could tell me this at the very least, right?

"I can't tell you."

_What the fuck._

"Sorry." When she looked up and my glare pierced right through her, Maka visibly wilted and tried to sink into her chair.

I decided it was better not to say anything else. I didn't want a repeat of the last time. So, I got up and went back to the couch.

* * *

Maka crashed pretty early that night, and on my recliner, too. I scooped her up, not worried about waking her. _Maka always slept hard after she cried_, I thought. _She would cry hardest for other people_.

Stopping in my tracks, the thought made me stop, wondering what that was. But I didn't even remember anymore, so I just kept walking with the blanket towards Maka and then draped it over her, going down to her feet to stretch it out.

It couldn't have been that important.

Making my way into my room, I prepared myself for nightmares and took a sleeping pill, hoping it would help me sleep stronger.

* * *

Through muddled shaped and watery images and intangible objects and filtered, muffled sounds, I started to drift awake.

Rubbing my hand against my eyes to calm them, I wondered what had woken me up, since the pill seemed to have actually worked, and I hadn't been having nightmares.

However, the shrill cries and loud sobbing told me that not everyone under the roof was having such a great sleeping experience.

I was up in an instant. The pathetic cries motivated my groggy body to move faster, and in an instant I was in front of Maka's form.

I wrapped my hands around her shoulders, trying to jolt her awake as I shook her and called her name. My hands became clammy, and I noticed that she was in a cold sweat. My hands put the younger into even more of a panic, and she trashed wildly, kicking and squirming until the covers were off of her completely.

I knew I was calling her name, but I couldn't hear myself. All I could hear were Maka's screams, all I could see was her convulsing form. I could no longer feel my hands, and it suddenly felt as if I were coated in a sheet of icy dampness, not her.

But the moment passed when her eyes flew open.

Cooing to her, I said that everything was fine, and it was just a dream, even as her arms wrapped around me and her screams turned into tears that ran down my back and soaked into my shirt.

Finally, I ran a thumb across her cheek, and then the other. She'd seemed to calm down.

"Are you okay?"

I smiled as she nodded, relieved, but still concerned.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

She started shaking, and I'd wondered if I'd asked the wrong question as she pulled away. But it was as if she was even closer than before when our breaths mingled between us and her eyes were mere inches from mine. I was suddenly aware that I had the ability to make us become so much closer, our lips as close as they were, but I didn't act upon it.

"You…" She gasped, then took a shaking breath that was supposed to calm her. "You…!" Her voice was just as shaky as before, and she stopped trying to fix it.

Maka gulped, and I assumed she was trying to find a way to word everything. "The most important person in my life… I had a dream he sacrificed himself for me, even when I didn't want him to, and then I thought he recovered, but…" Maka started crying again.

"He didn't remember me," she sobbed, her eyes still locked with mine. "And then I had to pretend I didn't know him because it was for the best, but then I saw him at the library, and we were in the same class, and we talked and I went over to his house, and he let me in, but he didn't remember, and I couldn't say everything I wanted, and I couldn't tell if we were getting farther apart or closer together…

"But I'm sure what to think, because right when I think he's a different person, he does something to make me think differently, over and over again!" Sobbing almost as hard as when she was asleep, her head rested on my shoulder, not able to keep her head up anymore. "And I don't know what to _do_...!"

"Then what happened?" I asked, my lips bushing against her shoulder finally free of it's vest and coat, only to have a white dress shirt.

Her grip around me tightened. "I don't know," she whispered.

I pulled away, bring as gentle as possible as I slipped one arm behind her back and the other on the underside of her knees. Eyes adjusted to the darkness, I walked back to my room and placed her down on the bed.

Her crying still echoed through the silent apartment as I slipped underneath with her. "Soul…!" she cried, panicked eyes turning to meet mine.

I shushed her, pulling the fragile being into my chest. "It's just a dream."

* * *

**Oh, Soul, if only you knew.**

**Well, hey! It's Christmas! (Yes, I am perfectly aware that no one but me reads fanfictions durning Christmas, excuse my lame ass.)And I live in Florida, so of _course _it's fucking 61 degrees outside at 10:47pm. I got hot, and my window is literally open. That's how bad it is. And last week it was a _beach _day. It was almost ninety degrees in the middle of freaking December, do you realize how depressing that was as I skated over to the gas station? _I saw my neighbors coming back from a day at the beach_. God, I wanted to break the sun.**

**Anyways... no confetti. I would have ****confettied**** if I'd uploaded yesterday, because that would've been a great accomplishment, but I couldn't find myself to write and it was just bad so I stopped and tried writing all through today but it was worse and - this is not a lie - I was literally on the toilet when I figured out where I wanted to go with the chapter. Yep. Stuff like that actually happens.**

**And also, I LIED. I said I would get the angst to STFU for this ONE FREAKING CHAPTER, but you know. I tried that, and then I couldn't think of anything to write, then I took a shit and - BAM - the idea was centered around angst. Goddamn it.**

**But just think of how it'll be when they wake up...? *wiggles eyebrows***

**REVIEW. **


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